The Values of Distance
by imsanehonest
Summary: With distance she could make herself believe that he didn’t know how he made her feel. HouseCameron.


**The Values of Distance**

**Summary: **With distance she could make herself believe that he didn't know how he made her feel.

**Disclaimer: **House is awesome. Far too awesome for a commoner such as myself to even pretend to own its wonderfulness. Hence, this disclaimer. Oh woe. House belongs to David Shore and Fox.

**Author's Note: **This was written for LJ's **backsexy**. My prompt was a picture of a lock and chain. Rwar. Sadly, this response probably isn't as kinky as this prompt warranted. My apologies for this horrid lack of kink. My first try at House/Cameron. Insert nail-biting and hair-pulling as needed.

I wasn't going to post this here on FF, but I feel absolutely terrible about taking so long with Drenched and Lord knows the House/Cameron shippers who read that thing deserve some reward for putting up with me. (Along with various other shippers, for that matter. –makes list-) So, here you guys go.

Reviews/Reviewers are loved.

Thank you and enjoy!

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**The Values of Distance**

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This was never what Allison Cameron had in mind.

In her youth, when she had just begun college and had yet to realize that things rarely went according to plan, she never would have dreamt that at thirty-two she would be breaking into a hundred year old building to collect mold.

After all, such prerequisites were rarely expected for the medical profession.

Of course, at that age Cameron hadn't thought that she would be doomed to the employment of the hobbling annoyance that was currently trailing, loudly, behind her.

"You do realize what this is doing to my reputation, don't you?"

Cameron shot a glare over her shoulder, watching House critically as he made his way over various discarded Halloween decorations, hopping around pumpkins, scarecrows and skeletons with a look of mild disgust on his face.

After their patient had lapsed into a coma, House sent Cameron to dig around in his belongings, smiling in triumph when she had presented her boss with a set of keys to the young man's place of work.

A local, renowned, Haunted House.

The smile faded rapidly when his immunologist dragged him with her to the establishment, the infrequent expression of joy from the man quickly replaced by the whining Cameron was currently being assaulted with.

House eyed his surroundings with distaste, sneering as he carelessly banged the door to the ancient building closed.

There was a loud bang as the very foundations shook at the force of the slam.

Not because it had been a particularly violent slam, but rather because the building was that frightfully old.

"Quiet!" Cameron snapped, glaring at her boss.

He gave a mock salute, looking bored. "Sorry, sir."

Cameron shook her head in exasperation, giving up on the man, and glanced around the room they had entered while resisting the urge to physically assault her boss. The last thing she needed was to be caught and arrested for illegally poking around in the popular family attraction.

A situation like that might force her to contemplate where, exactly, her life had gone so disastrously wrong.

She restrained herself from giving an audible sigh, instead turning back to her companion, a faint smirk on her lips. "Breaking an entering is doing nothing to your reputation that you haven't already firmly established yourself." She looked forward again, the flashlight in her hand helping to illuminate the darkness. "Except, perhaps, making it seem as if you actually do your job." She sent House a serious look. "What slander."

There was a significant pause, during which House tilted his head and frowned thoughtfully. "You make a point."

After a moment he snapped his fingers and pointed to his right leg victoriously. "My leg! This is having detrimental effects on my leg." He nodded firmly.

Cameron gave him a once-over, noting that he didn't seem to be leaning too heavily on his cane, that there were no thinly masked indications of pain on his face.

She locked eyes with him and shrugged. "You'll live." She walked further into the building, pulling out her sample kit as she examined the walls, repressing a shudder. The place was teeming with rot, bacteria and insects.

There was a grumble behind her before she heard the shuffling of House's feet as he followed, muttering, "I don't have to be here."

"Yes you do," Cameron responded automatically, pulling out tweezers and getting on tiptoes to collect a greenish substance from a beam. "Besides," she smirked as she lowered herself, stuffing her sample into a plastic bag and sending House a charming grin, "it's good for you."

House huffed, leaning against a wall and crossing his arms over his chest, raising a brow. "Says who?"

"Cuddy."

He snorted. "Well then it must be a lie."

Cameron sent him a scowl.

House rolled his eyes. "Right, sorry." He coughed, straightening his posture and adopting an expression of false sincerity. "Lisa Cuddy wants nothing from me except to better myself, physically, mentally and spiritually." He paused, giving his head a tilt. "Or she likes jerking my leash just to prove that she's the one holding it." A shrug. "Semantics."

Cameron shook her head, silently agreeing with the man, but saying nothing as she went back to collecting samples. She didn't approve of what Cuddy and Wilson had done to House, attempting to keep him in his place. To force humility upon him so that he was easier to control. Easier to fix in whatever fashion they chose.

For all of his annoyances, his infuriating nature and complete disregard for the rules, House had done nothing to deserve that deception from the people he trusted most.

House's voice interrupted her thoughts. "Not to mention that with me gone she gets the pleasure of sexing Jimmy up privately in her office."

Cameron turned to see him raising his eyebrows suggestively.

Wanting nothing more than to steer clear of the sexual endeavors of the Dean of Medicine and the Head of Oncology, she coughed pointedly and brought the conversation back to its origination. "You have to be here because Chase and Foreman have the flu, we have a patient and I didn't want to come alone." She moved across the room, frowning at the rusty refrigerator placed in a corner.

Apparently, this was the break room.

House furrowed his brow. "I know you're one step away from a gentle forest fawn, but I was hoping that you weren't pathetic enough for this," he gestured to the dusty rafters, "to inspire any sort of terror within you."

"It was ransacked three times in gang-related incidents." She opened up the fridge door with trepidation, making a face when the distinct smell of rot reached her. She closed it quickly and turned back to House, grabbing another plastic bag. "Forgive me for not wanting to show up by myself."

"So bring the cripple along to protect you from the thugs." There was a pause. "Ah." He gave an exaggerated nod. "What perfect sense it all makes now."

Cameron rapidly reopened the refrigerator door, taking the offending molding bread and speedily putting it into the bag, only daring to breathe after the plastic was firmly zipped closed.

That task complete, she turned to House, placing the latest sample into her kit before placing her hands on her hips and glaring. "Do you want to find out what's wrong with the patient or not?"

There was a long silence as House observed the floor with interest.

Cameron blinked. "House?"

He shrugged without guilt. "There are better things we can do with the afternoon."

She gaped. "He's unconscious."

He raised a finger. "But not dying."

Cameron scowled. "Well then let's just wait until he is, shall we?" She got out another sample bag, waving it open with an irritated snap.

House sighed and shook his head sadly at her. "So overeager."

She frowned and raised a questioning eyebrow at him, tweezers poised over another piece of mold.

"Look at this festering hole of decay." He motioned to the room, leaking roof, dust, mold and all. "Our patient could have gotten sick from any number of the decomposing heaps of crap here. Of course, until we have more symptoms we can't narrow down the field of possibilities, which means we could be here all day without finding anything diagnostically useful."

Cameron sighed, bringing down the tweezers and rubbing her forehead, feeling a painful throb beginning to thump just below her skin.

She drove out into the Middle of Nowhere, New Jersey, to stare at some mold and then go right back to the hospital, nothing useful gained from the experience.

"And why didn't you tell me this before we left the hospital?"

House slapped his hands together, rubbing them eagerly, "So we could do something better."

Cameron raised an eyebrow. "Better?"

House gave a firm nod. "Way better." He pushed himself off from the wall, smirking. "Furry green things are gross and sick people are boring." He gave a dramatic shudder. "Other things we can do, however." In an instant he had spanned the feet between them, smiling down at her from mere inches away. "Those are far more pleasant."

And suddenly Cameron was made aware of his proximity, the undercurrent of seduction in his tone, the warmth from his skin, the smell, _his_ smell, she had forced herself not to think of for so very long.

Fearing her own reactions, she stepped away hastily, covering up the nervous action with a sigh, throwing up her hands and packing away her kit. "Fine. Let's go."

She wasn't going to allow herself the pleasure of that particular delusion. Not again.

In front of her, House sulked. "I never said we had to leave."

Cameron remained focused on her equipment, shining her flashlight around the floor and searching for a lost plastic bag.

"Why so hasty?"

She looked up at her boss, brow furrowed. "You want to stay?" She gestured towards the ground, disbelief obvious in her tone. "Here?"

House shrugged his shoulders. "Won't be around Cuddy."

Cameron let out a bark of laughter. "No, House." She turned back to the ground, still searching. "Either we collect samples or we go back to the hospital."

House frowned comically. "But Mooom…" He paused, suddenly serious as he eyed her critically. "Why?"

Cameron smiled in triumph as she found the bag, answering sarcastically, "I don't want to subject myself to your company longer than necessary."

House smirked. "Liar." He took a step towards her once more, reestablishing the nearness that was so unsettling to the immunologist. "You'd love to subject yourself to me." He sent her a significant glance. "And not just my company."

Cameron found herself staring up into his eyes, entranced by the smug smile on his face, the cocky tilt of his head, the arrogant satisfaction of his features.

She gulped.

Things had changed, in the last months.

Nothing obvious or large. Just small, lingering touches to her shoulder or back while they were in the lab. The way he would order her to fetch his lunch and make her stay with her own when she returned. How he had begun to listen to her rather than merely provide her with petty indulgence during discussions, both in and out of diagnostics. And while these all thrilled her, secretly, beneath her carefully composed façade, she was also terrified.

It had taken her over a year to regain her equanimity with her boss. A year of ignoring the inexplicable and undeniable attraction, the ridiculous longings of an enamored child, the desperate and nearly painful _want_.

And now, when she felt comfortable and confident once more, when she had regained the respect and admiration from her peers and superiors, he did this.

He came too close.

But Cameron had been pretending for a long time, was used to the game, and so it was only with a mild sense of discomfort that she smiled in amusement. "Really?"

House gave a serious nod, taking another step towards her. "Oh, yes. And who can blame you?" He grinned. "I'm quite a dish."

Cameron backed up a step and blinked at him. "I don't think I understand what you're getting at here."

Even though she did.

"In simple terms," Another infuriating smirk, accompanied by a step, "you want to jump me."

Cameron felt the world lurch dangerously, a sense of panic coursing through her.

She adjusted her stance and tried not to think about how her heart started to beat faster, how her breath hitched in her throat. Instead, she simply gave House a serious look.

"I don't want-"

"Liar," House interrupted quickly, grinning.

She scowled. "I'm not lying."

And if she was, she certainly wasn't going to allow him to be made aware of it.

And then it was with a faint indication of amusement that House took another step forward, eliminating the remaining distance between them and bringing a large hand to the side of her face.

Cameron stopped breathing.

It trailed down her skin, thumb brushing against her cheek before traveling across the span of her neck with a tantalizing slowness, calloused fingertips stimulating the hypersensitive area before the palm came to rest just above her collarbone.

She hadn't realized how disarming a single touch (a touch she had wanted for so painfully long) could be.

He leaned forward, bringing his lips close to her ear, his breath stirring escaped tendrils of hair, making her shiver. She felt the upturn of his lips against her skin, heard haughty triumph as he whispered, "Then why has your pulse increased?"

It was only then that she realized his fingers were carefully placed above her artery.

She could hear his smirk. "Everybody lies."

She pushed his hand away, scowling while internally cursing herself, feeling the fool.

Cameron swiftly reestablished space between them, giving herself the distance she so desperately needed. She hid it through readjusting her clothes self-consciously, pulling down her blouse and brushing off her tailored pants, attempting to force the red tinge away from her face, to slow her breathing.

"Because it was startling and unexpected," she remarked as steadily as she could, not daring to glance up at the man, focusing on the perfectly presentable cotton she was wearing, rubbing at wrinkles that didn't exist.

He smirked, raising his eyebrows. "And because you want us to do the nasty."

Cameron huffed, blushing fiercely and only just stopping her hand from tracing the pattern of his fingers that she could still feel on her throat.

How dare he.

Unsettle her so thoroughly, deprive her of the one defense she had left to ward him off. Destroy her delicately crafted distance, concocted to keep her safe from him. From what she was like when she was near him.

With distance she could make herself believe that he didn't know how he made her feel.

How much those infrequent and small touches to the back or shoulder affected her, how profoundly her world was altered with his every contact, with every casual glance. With every less than caustic word, every hint of approval and every indication, however minuet, that he might want her half as much as she wanted him.

With distance she could forget how completely she desired him.

And nothing was more frightening to Cameron than her own desperate need.

Now the only protection allowed to her was her fumbling and awkward words. Lies that she knew he didn't believe.

But, it was all she had.

So, Cameron simply grinned at the man who had shaken her to her very foundations, with nothing more than a touch.

"That's an awful lot of unwarranted self confidence."

House frowned, taking another limping gait towards her. "No." He eyed her knowingly, no hint of doubt or uncertainty in his tone. "I get within a foot of you and I can all but hear the butterflies start to flutter."

Cameron felt her cheeks begin to redden, opening her mouth to contradict him.

"Oh," House cut her off, staring intently at his cane as he tapped it on the ground, pointedly ignoring his employee's discomfort, "you've gotten better at hiding it." He looked up, a smug expression on his face. "But that doesn't mean I haven't noticed."

Of course.

Because House had always seen through her like glass.

He made a face and shrugged. "Not to say that I don't think that the fact that you would like nothing more than to ravish me is the unearthing of your demented Electra complex," he paused dramatically, "but who am I not take advantage of this psychological trauma?"

She crossed her arms over her chest, fiddling with the sample kit thrown over her shoulder. "The same person you were two years ago."

House grinned. "Ah, you see." He came closer. " I'm not the same person I was two years ago."

Cameron blinked.

He gave a sage nod. "I changed. Had a near death experience." He extended a hand and twiddled his fingers at the rafters. "Saw the light."

Cameron frowned thoughtfully.

House was always an intricate combination of sarcasm, lies and truth. The challenge was in deciphering this blend, identifying one from another and recognizing the significance of each. And for all of his play-acting, the statement had an undeniable ring of authenticity to it.

He gave another careless toss of his shoulders. "Besides, you've been lusting after me all this time." He came closer again. "It's probably best that I put you out of your misery."

Cameron let out a nervous laugh. "My misery?" She retreated a step, only to find her back to a wall. "That's what's concerning you?" She swallowed.

"Without question." He came closer, bringing his face level with hers. "Really, Cameron." His blue eyes studied her intently, inches away from her own, making her knees weak. "I'm very a selfless person."

With a sideways smile he leaned forward, mouth descending to the delicate place where neck met shoulder.

Only to have Cameron edge away at the last moment, heart pounding wildly.

This was too close. Far too close.

All but running, she made her way across the room. "I'm going to look through the rest of the building to make sure there's nothing toxic." She shot behind her, only pausing to turn when her hand was firmly on the knob of the door and he was more than ten feet away from her person.

Distance made her safe.

"When I get back, we'll leave."

House frowned comically, leaning on his cane and staring at her as if he hadn't just tried to kiss her. "Aww…"

Cameron glared. "Stay here and don't touch anything."

"I'll just set the place on fire instead." He gave an exaggerated nod. "Save the gangs the trouble."

She shook her head in exasperation, noting his smirk as she left the room.

It was the afternoon, so the house was blissfully empty, allowing Cameron the ability to walk around the vacant halls without worry or apprehension, without cause for fear or need to keep up appearances.

She could be as flustered as she wished when he wasn't there to watch her. There to observe and calculate her every motion, every expression and reaction.

Around House, each small movement, no matter how insignificant, somehow gave her away. Let him see parts of her that she had no wish to share. That she couldn't allow him to distinguish, for fear of his purposeful abuse.

Because House never drew his claws without reason.

After two years of nothing but resistance, of his deliberate cruelty and harsh mockery, this turnaround was alien and unexpected, almost frightening.

Cameron had taken the leap, made a fool of herself and learned her lesson. House was not to be trifled with, dangerous and untouchable to everyone save for those of his own choosing. Two years ago, she hadn't met his standards and had promptly given up on ever reaching him.

She could keep her longings, her hopeless fantasies, but only under the clear understanding that they were merely dreams. So long as she never believed that he would ever permit her to be more to him than another lackey, another foolish child that he was forced to deal with.

And so Cameron had redefined herself under these parameters. Constructed herself with the utmost care to follow House's guidelines, the unspoken rules he put in place to keep himself secure in his misanthropy.

There were times when she slipped. When she would stare too long, touch without reason, feel herself pulled towards him, unable to escape his inexplicable magnetism. And when these slipups occurred House would know, even with the smallest transgression, and punish her accordingly. A snide comment, deliberate dismissals of her professional opinions, a mocking glance. Or worse, his eyes blaring into hers with a frightening intensity, a brush of his fingertips against her skin, a knowing smile.

And those were the worst torments of all. Making her insides warm, her breathing quicken, her good judgment begin to waver.

She had learned not to trust herself around him.

Cameron gave her head a shake, forcibly pushing aside her thoughts and giving the beams of the building a look. Eyeing a particular piece of lumber suspiciously, she shrugged the sample kit off her shoulder, digging around in the small box for equipment to snag a piece of the wood.

House might think that it was useless, but Cameron had no wish to come back to this place. If that meant taking a thousand useless samples now, so be it.

She was just pulling out latex gloves when there was a loud clatter followed by a crash further in the house.

Cameron dropped the gloves instantly, fear rushing through her.

Gangs, as a rule, did not like visitors.

Hearing the clatter becoming louder, knowing that she had nowhere to hide and that House wouldn't be able to help her from the back of the building, Cameron hefted up her flashlight, holding it overhead threateningly while slowly walking forward.

The sounds increased in volume as she came closer and closer to the source, finally reaching a corner, behind which the clanking was going on unabated.

Taking in a big breath, Cameron flung herself around the corner, raising the flashlight higher as the perpetrator came into view.

House blinked, taking in her intimidating posture and the heavy object over her head.

He gave another blink. "You could hurt someone like that, you know."

Relief quickly washed through her, almost making her stagger with it. She was safe, he was safe and no one was in danger of being hurt. She dropped the flashlight, holding a hand to her chest as the panic slowly left her.

Then, after she had recovered from the shock sufficiently, Cameron remembered who had caused said panic and, once she had straightened her posture and scowled properly, promptly began to yell at him.

"House!"

He stared at her blankly, raising a hand. "Present."

He then went back to ignoring her in favor of fiddling with two chains that dangled from the ceiling, his cane tossed carelessly on the floor at his feet as he merry clanked them together.

Hence, the noise.

Cameron glared. "House, I could have killed you!"

House snorted. "With those twigs?" He gestured to her arms, skepticism apparent on his features.

Her glare intensified.

He adopted an expression of false sincerity. "I'm just putting on a brave face." A nod. "I was petrified."

Cameron rubbed at her forehead. "How did you get out here?"

He gestured behind him, waving towards the wall absentmindedly as he continued to examine the chains. "Backstage door." He gave them another rattle. "Look pretty authentic, don't they?"

Cameron sighed, stepping forward and feeling like she was supervising a five year old. "House, don't touch those."

House turned to her, smirking. "Why not?" He bent his head and looked around suspiciously. "Think the electronic skeleton will get upset and grind his gears at me?"

She made an exasperated noise. "House, we're not even supposed to be here."

"That's never stopped me from having a good time in the past." He looked at her sadly. "A lesson that comes with age, I assure you." He went back to the devices hanging from the ceiling, completely enraptured. "Chains like these, they weren't created to inflict pain. Didn't cause any harm, in of themselves."

He gave an experimental tug on one of them, making Cameron flinch and duck, afraid that the roof would come down on top of them.

The building wasn't exactly in tip-top condition.

House continued on, oblivious. "Their purpose was far more sinister."

Cameron edged forward more, sorely tempted to make a grab for the man and haul him out of the building. Instead, she took a deep breath and attempted to give a pleasant smile. "And what was their purpose, Doctor Pain?"

"Isn't it obvious?" He turned, bringing his full attention to her, the intensity of it making her want to fidget under his gaze.

"To make a prisoner feel utterly helpless."

It was impossible, not to be pulled into those eyes.

"Completely defenseless to their captor's whims."

She wanted to look away, but couldn't. Didn't have the power or will to break this connection.

"Entirely exposed to whatever tortures the vanquisher wished to subject their victim to."

And she was.

"Think of what you would be willing to say in that situation? What you would be willing to do?"

Anything.

"The fear, the anticipation." He dropped one of the chains, taking a step forward, grinning. "That alone would be enough to destroy the will of a normal person, make them agreeable to almost any act, any pledge, so long as the terrifying expectation of would end."

Nothing was worse than knowing what was coming and having no way to stop it.

Cameron took in a deep breath.

House shrugged, turning back to the chains for the first time and glancing at them with interest. "One has to wonder if something so simple would work, in today's modern age."

It wasn't fair, how easily and dramatically he could affect her.

Cameron allowed herself a moment to gather herself, finally free now that his eyes were off her, able to think rationally once more. Then she took in a breath of air, straightening her shoulders, staring at her boss unflinchingly.

She wouldn't let him get to her.

No more than he already had.

"Fascinating." She leaned down, picking up her dropped flashlight, slowing standing back up. "Now can we g-"

Without warning he turned, grabbing her wrist with one hand while snaking the other around her waist. Cameron's vision spun, overwhelmed by the feeling his fingers burning through her clothes, the heat of his touch making her giddy as he pulled her towards him rapidly, almost making her stumble as the flashlight fell from her hands, his firm grip at her hip the only thing keeping her from falling.

The movement was brought to an abrupt halt as her back thudded against the brick wall.

She felt the body heat radiate from him, his chest inches from her own, her arms pulled up to either side of her face by one of his hands, the cold chains pressed against her wrists providing a sharp contrast to his warm skin.

Cameron remained motionless for a beat, shocked, before shakily asking, "What are you doing?"

He glanced up, wrapping a bit of chain around her wrists, keeping them pinned under his hand, before turning back to her. "Something way better than collecting mold."

Cameron found herself unable to speak, think. Entirely immobilized.

Just the way he wanted.

With a smirk House leaned forward, his mouth nearly brushing her ear. "Do you feel trapped?" he asked with a seductive lit to his voice.

His breath raised goose bumps along her neck.

"House-"

He brought his free hand to her hip, positioning himself so that his leg was firmly placed between her own.

"Vulnerable?"

He brought his head forward, his cheek next to hers, his stubble scratching at her soft skin.

"Defenseless?"

He lowered his mouth and began nibbling at her throat, his hand deftly sliding under her shirt, delicately, carefully, tracing her ribs.

She gasped, feeling her heart beat faster, in time with his fingertips.

Her defenses were utterly destroyed, annihilated instantly with the feel of his skin, with his mere presence.

With his closeness.

She was no longer safe with herself, much less him.

And he knew it.

She took another desperate breath, staring at the ceiling helplessly, overwhelmed with sensation. "Why do you keep doing this?"

The hand moved to her back, startling the cold skin with the warmth of his fingers, slowing brushing against her spine, following the bone with a maddening patience, only to be brought back down, just as unhurried in its decent.

He smirked against her throat. "Doing what?"

She whimpered as he lapped at the sensitive juncture between jaw and neck. "Playing with me."

He removed his mouth from her skin, looking at her thoughtfully, a faint smile on his lips.

"Because you make it so easy."

He nipped at her collarbone before returning his attentions to her neck.

"So fun."

His hand moved from her back to her stomach, the contact making her muscles clench.

"Because I can."

His hand glided upwards, enveloping her breast.

Cameron resisted the urge to moan.

"Because you let me."

He took the hand away, bringing it to her face, caressing its contours, smoothing her hair away from her eyes with a tenderness that startled her.

House was many things, had proven to be many things, but he was never gentle.

She was even more shocked when lips followed fingers, trailing across cheekbones and nose, her brow and the corner of her mouth.

He pulled away slightly, just enough to lock his eyes with hers. "Because you don't want me to stop."

She ignored the twinge she felt when his lips left her skin, her rasping breaths, the internal voice whispering, _This_, he, _is just what you need_.

"Yes I do."

He grinned. "Liar."

And then he brought his lips to hers, the action so startling that Cameron gasped in surprise, House taking advantage of her shock by slipping his tongue between her lips, leisurely exploring her mouth without hurry or concern. Devoted entirely, it seemed, to memorizing every inch of her, inside and out.

It was all so strange, a juxtaposition of actions that left her entirely confused and completely enraptured. She could still feel the cold metal of the chains around her wrists, the harsh wall behind her, digging into her back. But then there were his lips, his fingers. His chest firmly trapping her, nearly, but not quite, touching her. His hand on her wrists keeping her from escape, making her warm and delightfully occupied with every bit of his skin that was attached to hers.

And she found herself thinking that it wasn't enough.

House removed his mouth from hers, leaving them both gasping for air, Cameron looking at him in a dazed wonder, overwhelmed as she was by every aspect of him.

House looked a bit unsteady himself, taking a moment to catch his breath before giving her a smug smile. "What can I make you agree to, now that you're helpless?"

Cameron was still panting as she looked at him. "This isn't a game, House."

He lowered his mouth to hers once more, speaking mere millimeters from her lips. "Everything's a game."

And to House it was true. Every seductive brush of the fingers, every piece of skin he set aflame with his touch, every gasping breath she took. They were his points, proof of the fact that he was winning this war of wills, the battle of lusts.

Cameron was tired of losing.

She went on her toes to eliminate the last of the distance between them, kissing him fiercely, without anything more sympathetic than raw animal need.

After a momentarily stunned stillness, House responded in kind, giving her no quarter.

Minutes, hours, later, House jerked away, leaning his head against her shoulder, breathless, hand still trapping both of hers under its palm.

"We should get back, Allison." He kissed the side of her throat and she could feel his smile. "We have an unconscious patient to attend to, after all."

Cameron took in a deep breath, shifted on her feet, and gave in.

Distance was overrated.

"He's not dying."

He felt too good for her to lose this proximity.

House brought his head up, smirking.

He let go of her wrists and Cameron quickly wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her hands in his hair as she pulled him forward once more.

He would keep playing with her, and she would continue to allow it.

Because she loved this game.


End file.
